


Cat Burglar

by yorkisms



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, on near permanent hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-25 08:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13830294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: Washington thinks he might have stumbled into some kind of conspiracy- at least, that's what all the secrecy and tension is about when a cop he used to work with wakes him up at midnight with a vague mention of life or death immediacy.He's sucked into a world that's the opposite of his former one- where crime is a required component of survival, and where he will discover that sometimes, the ones who are legally the criminals are morally the good guys.





	1. Night Interruptions

**Author's Note:**

> Not to get too emo over a fic I pulled out of thin air and wrote for fun, but this fic cured months of writer's block and this is the result of my beautiful partner convincing me to say "fuck it" and not think of what anyone might say and post it. Love you, boi. 
> 
> This is mostly a practice fic even though I'm into the concept and plot and stuff, so, I'll just see where it goes and pray it isn't destined for eternal hiatus.

“Get up.” 

“What the fuck?” 

He opens his eyes slowly in the shitty motel room he rented. Sure, he keeps early mornings, but this is earlier than he usually wakes- and sleep is so hard to come by, anyway. 

The view that greets him is the barrel of a silenced pistol and a woman with her face covered behind it. 

“Get moving, Wash. Come with me.” 

Wash narrows his eyes slightly with recognition. “I know you.” 

“Yeah, you sure do, now get moving. Get your shit and roll out.” 

“Tex?” 

Tex pulls off her mask. “Yeah, fine. Now get out of here. You were supposed to get out of town, and some people are on their way to make sure you leave or die. I’m saving your life. Pack.”

“With a gun?” Wash asks, raising an eyebrow, but he gets up anyway. Tex folds her arms, keeping the gun pointed at him as he gets dressed.

“You may have been dishonorably fired in scandal, but you’re still former BGPD.”

“So are you.” 

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know, Washington,” Tex says icily. “You have fifteen minutes. I have a car waiting outside to take you to a safe place to crash. Then you can make a decision.” 

“What decision.” 

“Leave the city and live the good life somewhere else, like York, or stay here and do what you gotta to stay alive.” 

“Crime.” 

“Yeah,” Tex says. “Crime.”

“I see what you picked.”

“Snide comments are reserved for after you find out what we’re up against, Wash. Move it."

\--

Tex drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding a gun far too well for Wash’s taste, who is forced to sit with his duffel bag of possessions on his lap due to the state of Tex’s trunk. 

“I always thought you were a motorcycle person.” 

“I don’t bring the motorcycle to pick up people, genius.” 

“Ah. That makes sense.”

Wash leans back in the car seat. “You seem pretty convinced I was in imminent danger.” 

“Because you were.” 

“Tex, I don’t think anyone cares about me. I’m a ex-cop who had a mental break, and got put  back too early, fucked up an ex-con, and got fired. It was a mistake all around. I just wanna move past it.”

Tex sighs. “No. It wasn’t."

“Wasn’t what?”

“A mistake.” 

“What are you saying.” 

“Price isn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t ready to go back. After that it was a matter of time until you screwed something up big enough, and then, bam. Shamed. That would run anyone out of town. Anyone but you.”

“Look, I’m as ‘ _ about’ _ stopping corruption as anyone, but this sounds ridiculous.”

“Does it?” 

Wash pauses. 

“No. It doesn’t.” 

“That’s why they want you gone.” 

“Who’s they.” 

“The Director. Hargrove. Price. Their little buddy club.”

“To be fair,” Wash mutters sardonically, “Those three together also compromise the ‘creepiest people ever’ club.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So what’d they do?” 

“Hired a mercenary. Well, two of them.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“How do you think they lasted this long? No survivors. Buy them out or get them out of town. Or else…” 

“So what about you?” 

Tex grins slyly.

“I’m too good for all of those options. And with a bit of help you could be too.”

Tex pulls into a garage of a rundown apartment building Wash would have thought abandoned.

“Come on.”

There’s no door that Wash can see between the garage and the building itself- all of them are walled off and patched over with wood and crumbled cement. 

Tex sighs and looks up at the ceiling before picking up a small rock and throwing it upwards. Wash’s eyes track it until it hits a wooden trapdoor covering a hole in the cement. 

“Let me in.” 

“What is the password!"

“You can tell that it’s me. Let me in.” 

“Church said anyone who comes in needs to know the password.” 

Tex sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “For fuck’s sake. I don’t even remember what stupid shit he set this week.” 

“Caboose!” Wash hears a second voice shout. “Just let Tex in for christ’s sake! Church’s waiting for her, jeez!” 

“Oh. Okay!” 

The trapdoor slams open, and a rope and wood ladder drops down. 

Tex grabs it with one hand, and gestures to it with her head. “Come on.”

Wash stands there in a stunned silence for a moment while Tex disappears up the ladder, and follows her.


	2. Honor Among Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash meets the less than stellar citizens Tex has been holing up with.

“Tex!”

Wash hears the yell from down one of the halls as he sets his bag down somewhere. 

The apartment complex looks, frankly, awful. It’s patchwork, and crumbling. Wash thinks it’s one of the buildings built during a previous government push for low-income housing that got abandoned for lack of funds. It surprises him that it’s never been condemned. 

The voice calling Tex’s name comes from the end of the hall. 

There’s no doors in any of the rooms Wash can see- they’ve all been torn off the hinges by something. Or someone. He’s not sure which. 

The rooms, then, are blocked off from each other by blankets, cloths, and curtains tied to the doorframes. He sees that one has what looks like an old, cheap decorative jolly roger instead of a proper curtain, looking about the size of a supply closet. Someone’s nailed a broken piece of plywood to the wall next to it indicating that it’s Tex’s room in messy black paint. 

“Wait here,” Tex says, and disappears into the room at the end of the hall, and Wash examines the other nearby doors. 

One’s covered by a ragged dark blue child’s blanket, and Wash can barely read the sign next to it because of the dripped paint and messy writing- he thinks it says something like  _ Cabose _ with the e backwards. 

The other door’s got a length of faux-silk teal curtain, and rather than wood like the other two signs, it’s got paper taped to the doorframe that says “Tucker” with “Knock on wall before entering pls!” underneath. 

The pale blue bedsheets at the end of the hall are tugged harshly to the side, causing Wash to look up. Tex is leaning out of the last room, which has a neater sign telling Wash its occupant is called Church. 

Which tracks, he thinks, given what Tex had said to the other two earlier before sending them off.

“Come in. He wants to meet you.” 

“He?” Wash mutters, but enters as Tex holds the curtain back for him anyway.

“This’s your friend?” says the person Wash guesses, for now, is Church- a scrawny, pale, irritable-looking man. Wash wonders if he always looks this underfed. 

Then Church glares at him with dark blue eyes and Wash stops wondering. 

“You a cop?” 

“Not anymore.” 

“That’s not what I was fucking asking,” Church growls. “You gonna rat? Run back to the cops and try and save your own skin by telling them you’re gonna cooperate and make some presents of us?” 

“...no?” 

Church snaps his gaze to Tex. “You tell him?” 

“Not yet.” 

Church lets his shoulders slump slightly. “Look. This city’s fucked. There’s almost no level of government that isn’t run through with corruption, from Hargrove and...all of them.” 

Wash can tell by the stiffening of Church’s shoulders that there’s something going unsaid, but he leaves it alone for Church’s comfort. 

“If they think someone would want to go straight, they discredit them. At all costs. So bad, that they either leave town or aren’t missed when Hargrove sends his attack dogs after them. That’s what they did to Tex. And what I’m told they did to you.” 

Tex folds her arms and nods silently. 

“So you can stay here and help us survive,” Church says authoritatively, “Or you can get out of town.” 

“What’s survival entail?” 

“Crime,” Church says flatly. “Theft of all kinds. Burglary. Pickpocketing. Anything that gets us the resources to get by.” 

“Us?” 

“You’ve met me and Tex,” Church says, jerking his thumb towards Tex. “We live here with two  _ other  _ street rats. Tucker runs cons. Caboose is an idiot savant hacker.” 

Wash looks up as the string lights flicker slightly. “I was wondering why you have power.”

“Don’t get used to it. Most of it’s his.” Church bangs one hand on a part of the wall bordering Caboose’s room. “Caboose! Break the generator again and I’m not stealing you new parts!” 

“Okay!” Caboose sing-songs from the next room.

Church folds his arms and turns to Wash. “I don’t care what cons you run, to be honest. As long as you earn your keep. That’s how you live here. Are you in or out?” 

“What if I’m out?” 

“Then Tex will take you to the train station and you sure as shit can't come back here.” 

“If I’m in?” 

“Then you’d better think about how to get started.” Church narrows his eyes slightly. “What’s it gonna be.” 

Wash pauses. 

He can’t simply let go of this new information about his former bosses- and can’t pass up the chance to do more digging. 

“I’m in.” 

“Well, correction,” Church says. 

“What’s that?” 

“You’re in if you can steal somethin’ to use for your door.” 

-

Four hours later, Wash is irritatedly using a staple gun to attach a badly made bee-themed blanket he ran out of a thrift store with to his door. 

This is when one of the thieves- apparently his new neighbor- leans on the wall next to him and watches. 

“Great choice there.” 

“Shut up,” Wash grumbles. 

“Really, can’t commend it enough. It’s cute.” 

Wash almost resents the teasing note in his companion’s voice. 

“Who are you again?” 

Wash’s new acquaintance grins, somehow too perfect. He unfolds his dark brown arms before offering Wash a hand. 

“Lavernius Tucker.”

Wash pauses, and shakes. “So you’re Tucker.”

“Yep,” Tucker says, popping the p-sound. “And you’re Washington.”

“I am.”

They’re quiet for a moment before Tucker cocks his head, dreaded ponytail falling to the side. “Church didn’t think you’d stay. And to be honest, I didn’t either.”

“Really.” 

“Yeah, we figured you’d either ignore us and get killed or retire like a smart person.” 

“Lucky for you,” Wash says dryly, “Not knowing when to quit has kind of always been my problem.”

Tucker chuckles. “Then you’re probably a good addition to the team. I don’t think Church has ever quit while he’s ahead in his life.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Well, I’ve known him for some time so take that as you will. Still, though.”

Wash pauses, lowering the staple gun.

“Why are you here?” 

“In this shithole of a building, or with Church?” 

“Both.” 

“We’re in this building because none of the director’s or Hargrove’s guys will come in here. I’m with Church because he needs me.” 

Tucker stands up, patting Wash on the back in a friendly manner that makes Wash stiffen, and saunters off. 

Wash sighs and staples the last corner of the blanket to his door.

-

“Okay, Washington,” Church says, pushing the blanket on Wash’s door aside. 

Wash stirs awake slowly. “What  _ time _ is it.” 

“Four in the morning. Tucker and I are going to go out and run petty thefts all day. But you and I need to have a chat first.”

“Bout what?” 

Church looks from side to side before lowering his voice. 

“Detective Caroline Church.” 

“Wha’ bout her.” 

“Where is she.”

“Issn’ that something you’d know?” 

“Why would you think that.” 

“Same name?”

“It’s complicated. Where is she.”

“Um…” Wash rubs his eyes. “They said she was gone when I got back from rehab. KIA, I think.”

Church’s face hardens. “They’re lying.” 

“How do you know that.”

“Because- I just do, okay? Go back to sleep.” 

Church lets Wash’s door curtain swing shut, and leaves. 

Wash flops down, too tired to contemplate whatever that was.


	3. How to Steal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church and Tucker do some work. Tex starts to teach Wash how to steal. Caboose is there.

When Wash gets back up, the baby blanket on Caboose’s door is pinned to the side with a wire, and Caboose is sitting inside on a mattress, typing.

Wash watches for a second before Caboose looks up with a grin.

“Hello Mr. Washingtub!”

“That’s Wash-- forget it, just Wash.”

“Alright!”

Wash gets the idea Caboose won’t remember that at all.

“What are you doing, Caboose?”

“Church asked me to take these credit cards he stole and take all the money out of their accounts!”

“Did he.”

“He trusts me to do it right because I am his best friend!”

“Al...right, Caboose.”

“Are you looking for Taxes?”

“What?”

“Church’s girlfriend.”

“Tex? Yeah, sure.”

“She is making coffee. Church likes to go out and steal things with Tucker and then he brings them back to me to sell! So they are very busy.”

“Thank you, Caboose.”

“No problem Mr. Washingtub!”

Tex is done making coffee by the time Wash finds her. She’s moved on to drinking it instead.

“Mornin’ lazybones,” Tex says with a teasing smirk.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night,” Wash grumbles. “I’m allowed to sleep in.”

Tex takes a drink of her coffee. “Hope it doesn’t take you too long to get used to running cons, newbie. Church has no patience for people who don’t carry their weight.”

“I can-- I can carry my weight, alright?”

“Sure.”

“How do you know him, anyway?”

“We fucked, sometimes.”

Wash raises his eyebrows. “Even back when-?”

“No. Before I joined the force.”

Tex is quiet, and Wash doesn’t push.

“So where is he?”

“He gets up early these days,” Tex says. “Didn’t used to. But him and Tucker go downtown and hit as many wallets as they can for cash, cards, valuables.”

“How much do they get like that?” Wash says skeptically. Tex shrugs.

“A few hundred dollars a day. Feeds us short term, keeps the power on. Caboose hacks the cards for emergency money.”

“Speaking of power, sorta-- how does one shower in this place?”

Tex gestures with one hand. “We rigged running water, don’t sweat it.”

“How did you swing that?”

“Long story. There’s a working bathroom down by the front door.”

“Do you do anything with the upper floors?”

“Yeah, whatever the hell we want. Keep shit up there, whatever.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Tex drains the rest of her coffee. “Look. Washington.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna take pity on you. Do you want help running some jobs today?”

“Um-”

“Don’t answer that. You do. Come on.”

“I haven’t even gotten ready yet.”

“Well take your shower and get dressed. I’m going to teach you how this works.”

-

There’s enough cafes downtown that it’s not suspicious when Tucker enters one and makes an order.

Church banned him three plays ago from actually drinking any more of the coffee, but they have to keep appearances. Church looks over a book from the back of the cafe as Tucker leans on the counter.

“I’ve got one. She’s actually kinda hot.”

“Jesus christ,” Church grumbles into their headset. “Focus.”

“I gotta put my heart and soul into charming her, Church. You know how this works.”

“Just point her out already.”

“Back corner. Short dreads, checking her phone.”

“Got her. You distract, I’ll lift.”

“How?”

“By grabbing your coffee for you, idiot.”

Tucker smirks to himself, approaching the woman in the back.

“Is this seat taken?”

-

“The easiest way to steal something,” Tex says, opening the hatch into the garage and dropping the ladder for Wash, “Is misdirection. Nobody’s going to catch you doing anything if they’re not looking at you. It’ll help you keep off Hargrove’s radar, too.”

“Is that what you do?”

“No. That’s what Church and Tucker do. They argue, but they work with stupid amounts of synergy. Tucker draws all the attention, Church takes what he wants. They take people one on one, or in crowds, doesn’t matter. They’ve been working together for years. They could rob anyone blind if they wanted to.” Tex snorts. “Unfortunately, they’re idiots.”

Wash starts descending the ladder. “So what is it you do.”

“Church and Tucker do petty theft. I do grand theft. Break-ins. Burglaries. Stealing valuables and fencing them. And that is what I’m going to help you get into.”

“Great,” Wash says flatly. Tex smirks.

“I have a place I’ve been watching for a while. I’ll be kind enough to let you piggyback off of it for a share.”

“Fine,” Wash sighs. “Show it to me.”

-

Tucker looks over the woman- Vanessa’s- shoulder as Church flashes him what looks like fifty dollars and a credit card.

“That’s so cool. Didn’t know newspapers were still a big deal in Valhalla District.” Tucker gives Church a short nod as Church starts to work on returning the wallet.

“You’d be surprised.” Vanessa checks her phone. “I’m late for an appointment now, though. Some other time.”

“Sure,” Tucker says with a charming grin as Church slips away. “Some other time.”

-

Tex hands Wash a pair of pliers when she parks a block away from the target house.

“I need you to cut the power.”

“What?”

“There’s a wire box in the backyard. Jump the fence, and cut the power to kill any alarms and the electronic locks.”

“And then let you in?”

“Yeah. Remember to put on your gloves. Grab anything that looks valuable. Check for jewelry. Anything you can carry.”

“Got it.”

“In and out in less than fifteen minutes. Any more than that is too big a risk. Understand?”

Wash nods.

“Good. Your first job starts now.”

-

It’s late when Wash gets home, and as Tex leaves into the kitchen, Wash pauses in the darkened hallway. From Church’s room, he hears something that sounds like distress.

Before he can react, though, the curtain moves on Tucker’s door.

It’s Tucker.

Tucker leans on his own door frame, and listens until the sound repeats itself. Tucker sighs quietly, not noticing Wash.

“I’m coming.”

And Tucker steals into Church’s room with practiced ease.

Wash isn’t sure how to react.


	4. Rutherford Family Bakery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash argues with allies on all sides, and has a chat with the neighbors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks, and the very nice comment from anon! I'm gonna be keeping on this fic for the forseeable future so I hope it's loved <3

The next hint that everything is not quite what he was told comes a week later. Wash is getting adjusted to running jobs with Tex, as she’s the only one who will help him, though it’s clear she would prefer him to do his own work soon. 

There’s a cork board in the kitchen that’s worn and battered with use, and Wash moves some of the notes to each other to the side to reveal an old picture. 

It’s of the woman Church asked him about on his first night here, Wash remembers- Caroline Church. 

She was one of the lead detectives in his unit- his boss. They never really talked before apart from formalities, but everyone working under her knew her as dedicated and hardworking, even if she could be a little prideful and harsh. 

In the picture, she’s staring at the camera with defiance, dyed-red hair pulled back, and she looks younger- like she’s in a high school graduation photograph. 

The rest of the picture apart from her face is torn off by hand. Wash runs one finger along the edges, trying to guess what the rest of it was. 

Best he can think, there was someone else less relevant there. 

Looking at her with what he knows now, he can say with positivity that she and Church are related. They make the same expressions, he agrees privately, their faces are structured very similarly, and even though their eyes are differently colored, they have the same fire and ice. If Caroline never dyed her hair, it would be the same color as Church’s. Wash would have to guess siblings.

Before someone interrupts him, Wash replaces the photograph under all the other papers and tries to think about what this could possibly mean. 

 

-

 

Subtlety, though, has never been Wash’s strong suit. 

So instead he’s waiting when Church and Tucker enter the kitchen in the morning to get breakfast before they run...whatever they do during the day. 

“Hey Wash,” Tucker says cheerfully. Wash doesn’t respond. 

“Tell me why you want to find Caroline.” 

Church pauses from his action- taking a mug out of the cupboard- and stiffens, before slamming the mug down on the counter so hard Wash thinks it’ll crack. 

“You don’t need to know that, Washington.” 

“I think I do,” Wash growls. “You asked me, you had Tex pick me up, you brought me in on this. So tell me what you, she, and Tucker know, and I don’t.” 

Tucker looks worriedly at Church. “You don’t have to, Church. I c-” 

“Shut up, Tucker.” 

The room is tensely quiet as Church faces away from Wash, shoulders heaving slightly. Tucker flicks his eyes between them. 

Church whirls around, pointing his mug at Wash. “For the fucking record, you have no right to ask me that after only a week living here. But if you’re not gonna leave well enough alone you never will.” 

“What. Do you want. With Carolina.” 

“I want to find my god damn sister!” Church snaps. “All this fucking shit going on in the BGPD, she’s in DANGER!”

“So you’re gonna do what, bring her here and involve her in your crimes? Necessity can only excuse so much. If you want to be away from the corruption in the local government, take your money, buy a train ticket, and go!” 

“I can’t  _ leave _ this town!”

“What the hell is stopping you if you steal a few hundred dollars a day?” 

“Fucking  _ everything! _ ” Church practically howls. Tucker puts one hand on Church’s shoulder, pushing him away from Wash. 

“Church,” Tucker murmurs quietly. “It’s alright, it’s alright. You know how this works, we’re justified. You don’t need to explain everything right now.”  

“I think you should,” Wash growls quietly. Tucker snaps his head around and glares.

“Wash. Shut up.” Tucker turns back to Church. “Go outside, go outside. Take a breather for me. I’ll talk to him. Okay?” 

Church is quiet. 

“Okay, Church?” 

“Okay,” Church mumbles. Tucker rubs his arm slowly. 

“I’ll take care of it. Promise.” 

Church nods, then pulls away and exits. Tucker turns to Wash and slams his hands on the table. 

“Look, you’re okay, but don’t fucking try that shit again. Ever.” 

“You’re not telling me the truth,” Wash says. “Why haven’t you and Church left town.” 

“It’s. Not. Possible.” 

“Why.” 

“We’ve tried,” Tucker says with a sigh. “That conspiracy Tex told you about? They want us to stay here.” 

“Why would they want that?” 

“Because of Carolina,” Tucker says shortly, and stands up. “Look, you’re only gonna bring this shit up again if you find her. Got it?” 

“Fine.” 

“Good.” 

Tucker turns around and leaves. Wash leans back in his seat. 

He thinks he has to make a visit to some of the contacts Tex introduced him to in the last week.

 

-

 

Down the street from the apartment building that Wash’s odd new allies- apparently known as the blues to their neighbors- have taken over, there’s an old storefront. The sign on it is supposed to say Rutherford Family Bakery, but most of the letters have fallen off. The only remaining ones spell out R E D. 

Wash shoves his hands in his pockets, and looks at the boarded up door and windows. 

Out of politeness, he knocks on the door. 

“¿Qué está allí?”  _(Who's there?)_

“It’s Washington.” 

The door, even though it looks like it shouldn’t be able to, creaks open, revealing a short, irritable-looking hispanic man. 

“Se supone que no debo dejarte entrar.”  _(I'm not supposed to let you in.)_

“Hey, Lopez. Can I talk to the others.” 

“Pero por supuesto vas a hacer lo qué quieras de todas formas.”  _(But of course you're going to do what you like anyway.)_

“They’re here, right?”

Lopez sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “¡GRIF!” 

“Ey, ey,” says the person Wash knows as Dexter Grif, a fat hawaiian young-adult-- probably in his mid-twenties- who is wearing an old orange t-shirt and boxers while eating a box of cookies. Scars and patches of what looks like vitiligo cover his left arm.

He gestures at Wash with one cookie, mouth full. “Whaddaya want? Lopez, let him in before somebody notices the door.” 

“El Sargento va a ser enojado. Pero bien. Cava tu propia tumba.”  _(Sarge will be angry. But fine. Dig your own grave.)_

“Thanks Lopez.” 

Lopez sighs and shuts the door behind Wash. 

“So, Wash,” Grif says around his mouthful of food, “What can I do ya for?” 

“Well,” Wash says. “Any of you know anything about Church and Tucker?” 

“Like, are they fucking? Because I have a bet with Simmons on that, and I say yes.” 

“I-- no, not that. Just about where they come from. Why they’re still here.”

“Oh, well, you should ask Donut ‘bout that, he sets up our contracts when Sarge won’t and he deals with rumors and all that other stuff we need t’know.” 

“This does not make us friends.”

“Whatever,” Grif says with a shrug. “We do what we gotta do to survive. How long before you get that?” 

Wash sighs. “Where can I find Donut.”

Grif jerks his thumb at the hall. “Down there, on the left. Keep an eye out for Sarge, think he’s cleaning his guns.”

“ _ Thank _ you."

Wash heads down the hall to a door that’s been painted, for some reason, bright pink. 

“Donut?”

“Oh, Waaash!” the door swings open. Donut runs one hand through his dirty blond hair, seemingly uncaring of the burn scars over his right eye. “Fancy seeing you here! I thought after Tex told you what we do you would never come back again!” 

“I’m still not happy talking to mercenaries,” Wash says flatly, “But Grif said you deal in rumors, and I need to know more about Church and Tucker.” 

“You do? Well, information like that sure isn’t gonna come for cheap!” Donut thinks for a moment. “You’re really gonna have to owe me a favor.” 

“Just tell me, Donut.” 

“Tucker grew up on the poor side of town,” Donut says. “Well, that’d be here, really. Before it mostly got abandoned. Church, I don’t know a whole lot about him, but he didn’t.” 

“Grow up poor?” 

“Nope, definitely not. He must have grown up in the lap of luxury.” 

“So why would he...presumably, run away and turn to crime?” 

“It’s not on a whim, definitely,” Donut muses. “He must have had a whole giant load just building up inside of him and wanted relief, you know?” 

Wash makes a face for a moment. “That’s n-- never mind. Go on.”

“Tucker took him in ages ago. That’s what they say, anyway. Been together ever since.” 

“Hm.” 

“What are you thinking of?” Donut asks. “You had better be careful. Sarge says the blues have a lot of secrets. You could just go so deep you get stuck.” 

“Thanks, Donut,” Wash says hurriedly. “I’m going to go now.”

“Have a great day!” Donut says cheerfully, shutting the door. 

“How’d it go?” Grif asks, leaning on the hallway wall as Wash walks back towards the entrance. 

“Fine. Now I need to-” Wash stops in his tracks. “Wait. You’re mercenaries.” 

“Yeah. Who clued you in?” 

“You think you can help me find someone?” 

“Well, I can’t,” Grif says with a shrug. “But Simmons probably can.” 

“Where’s Simmons.” 


	5. Detective Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash does some digging, with the help of friends old and new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far in my head, act 1 of this story is about Carolina. Act 2 explains her and church. and act 3 goes into greater detail on the conspiracy that's going on with the freelancers and such. So welcome to about the midpoint of act 1.

“What the hell do you want with Simmons, you damn dirty blue?” 

“I just need him to follow up on something for me,” Wash says tiredly. Simmons, a nervous-looking nerdy type with a metal arm, looks at the boss of the reds- Sarge, an old veteran. 

“Sir, it’s fine, I don’t have to go anywhere to help Wash-”

“Absolutely not, Simmons! We don’t even know if we can trust this Wash fella yet!” 

“I’m standing right here. Besides, what I’m following up on might move the blues out of the apartments.” Wash pauses for effect. “And out of the city.”

Sarge makes an irritated noise. “Fine! Simmons, dig up whatever Wash wants but don’t leave the base. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir.”

Simmons pushes his glasses out of the way to pinch the bridge of his nose. “What do you need, Wash.” 

“I need to find someone who may have faked her own death.”

“Um...I don’t know if I need to be the one to tell you this, but people who fake their own death are usually actively trying to not be found.” 

“That’s why I need help.” 

“Who are you looking for, then?"

Wash pulls the photograph from the kitchen corkboard out of his pocket, unfolds it, and slides it over to Simmons. “Caroline Church. My former boss.” 

Simmons sighs tiredly. “Blue team drama.” 

-

Instead of doing any work in particular apart from the occasional lift from passers-by to allay any suspicion of his new side project, Wash heads to the nearest library and makes his way to the computers to check the history on the local papers. 

The library carries a few different sets of news records- old ones from the two major independent newspapers in the city, the New Republic Gazette and the Chorus Daily, before they merged into the weird amalgamation that currently serves what Wash would consider journalistic truth- the New Chorus Daily Gazette. It’s far from the only paper in the city, but it’s the only one that has a rabid and stubborn dedication to its work. Hell, Chorus Daily had dragged him through the mud after his accident, and rightfully so. Wash can respect that. 

So the New Chorus archives it is. 

Wash sits down at a computer and leans his chin on one hand as he researches the accident that had apparently killed Caroline. 

> _ Today Blood Gulch PD officer Caroline Church was confirmed dead after an attack that occurred downtown.  _
> 
> _ Police spokesperson Dr. Aiden Price stated today that Church, an up and coming lead detective, was killed in the line of fire during a conflict at a local bank which has not yet been named.  _
> 
> _ Caroline has little living family, but her coworkers remember her as dedicated and relentless in her work. Services will be held at the synagogue downtown next Friday, and while the service itself will only be open to close family and friends, the ensuing reception will be open to any public wishing to pay their respects. _

Wash sits back in his chair a bit. Church seemed so sure that she was alive- Wash has to wonder where that comes from. She was one of the most adept of his coworkers last time he checked. True, if anyone could escape an allegedly fatal gunshot, it’d be her, but… 

Wash decides to do more digging into the fates of his other former teammates, a conversation that his bosses had pointedly avoided. 

The rest of the dead, unfortunately for Wash, were closer friends of his than Carolina, and it leaves him feeling a little hollow. He knows that Blood Gulch isn’t a safe town, and the police force has a pretty high death rate, but knowing that the chances are their deaths were with intent is...a lot to bear. 

“Hey, Wash.”

Wash jumps. “Fuck, Tex, don’t do that, I could have stabbed you.” 

“You learn fast if you’re already walking around armed,” Tex says with some amusement. She sits in the seat next to him. 

“Look. I heard you tried to push Church for info.” 

“Tex, I-” 

Tex holds up one hand to shut him up. “Nope, listen. There’s a lot you’re gonna learn about if you stay, but you’re gonna need to slow the fuck up on asking him about ‘Lina. He barely trusted you before, now he’s never gonna tell you a damn thing.”

“You were rivals with Carolina.” 

“Yeah,” Tex says stiffly. “I was.”

“Church thinks she’s alive.” 

“And I think he’s on a wild goose chase borne outta guilt and trauma, so I indulge him. But if Lina’s alive, she probably won’t speak to him again.” 

“That entire sentence opens up more questions than it resolves,” Wash says dryly. Tex shrugs. 

“Well tough shit. If you’re gonna keep digging do it on your own, but bring in your share. Just be advised I don’t think you’ll find anything but skeletons.” 

Tex stands up as if to leave. 

“Tex, wait,” Wash says.

“Yeah?” 

“Where do you think Carolina would be hiding? If she was alive?” 

Tex shrugs. “Hopefully somewhere far away from here. But I can give you the phone number of someone who might have an idea.”

“Yes,” Wash says immediately. “Please.” 

Tex pulls out her phone and writes a number on a scrap of library paper. “Use a payphone and lose this number afterwards. Last thing he needs is more pressure from the city. Or to be given false hope she’s alive, so watch your words.” 

“Someone from the force?” Wash guesses. “Who is it?” 

“York,” Tex says calmly, and saunters out. Wash sits there, stunned, before rushing to scavenge the change for a phone call. 


	6. Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash, hot on the trail of the missing-presumed-dead Detective Caroline Church, digs up some valuable information about where she might hide, her past, and her alleged death.

There’s a payphone down the block from the library. Wash scrapes up the change by stealing from some people who are distracted with their computers and books.

He has to check first, though- make sure no one is about to approach him, make sure that nothing is going to go wrong. 

Wash pulls out the scrap of paper, feeds the change into the phone’s coin-slot, and dials. 

The person on the other end picks up on the third ring. 

“Tex?” 

“It’s Wash.” 

There’s a pause, and Wash can practically hear a grin. “You made it! Hah, Tex owes me fifty bucks. I said you would come through.” 

“I thought you moved to the countryside, York. After the accident.” 

“Well, yeah. Surprisingly, it’s really hard to continue police work with only one eye.” 

Wash winces. “Of course. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. Anyway, Only Tex knows where I am now. Did she give you this number?” 

“She did.” 

“Why?”

“She thought you could give me some information on something I’ve been tracking down for a while now.” 

“Depends what that is. I’m not coming back to the city easily, but if you wanna know something about the old team and the corruption in city hall, sure, I can help you.” 

Wash leans on the side of the payphone. “Carolina.” 

York sucks in a breath. “You really get to the point, huh.” 

“Tex is working with her brother. He thinks she’s alive and in the city somewhere.” 

“Look, Wash…” York sighs, making the speaker on Wash’s end crackle. “I can tell you what I think she would be doing if that was true. But I doubt it, I really do.” 

“York, listen.” 

“Listening.” 

“You knew Carolina possibly better than anyone else.” 

“I’ll accept that compliment.” 

“Tell me what you think she would do. Ignoring that it could be a dead end.” 

“Fine. Carolina wasn’t on good terms with her family. I don’t know why her brother’s even looking for her, because she said he ran away at thirteen. She wouldn’t go to any of them. If Carolina really did fake her own death, she would go to ground. Get fabricated papers and get a job somewhere totally innocuous. No getting into crime like Tex did. No leaving town like I did. She loves Blood Gulch, it’s her home. So yes, if she’s still alive, you could find her. But I doubt she made it.”

“Where would she get a job.” 

“Nightclub,” York replies immediately. “It would seem out of character to anyone but her closest friends.”

“And you.” 

“Well, of course. We met in a nightclub.” Wash feels a touch of pity for the loving nostalgia he can sense in York’s tone. “She’d be a waitress. Or bouncer. Cut her hair, probably gone real quiet, doesn’t have many connections if any. That’s what I’d expect of her. Is that what you needed to know?” 

“Yes. Thanks.”

“Wash.”

“Mhm?” 

“If you find her...I want to know about it.” 

“You will,” Wash promises. “You deserve that at least.” 

“Thanks. Now I gotta run. I don’t do nothing all day out here, you know.” 

“Sure you don’t. Bye, York.”

“Later, Wash.”

Wash hangs up and mentally tries to remember some of the shadier clubs in Blood Gulch. 

-

“Simmons.” 

“Jesus!” Simmons shrieks, barely catching his laptop. “Who let you in?!”

“Nobody. I used the front door. I’m here about that favor I asked for.” 

“Right, Church’s sister. Well, I dug up her death records-” 

“Really?” Wash says, surprised. “How?” 

Simmons gives Wash a ‘duh’ look. “We’re mercenaries. We need to know if someone we’re supposed to take care of dies, and make sure it’s for real.” 

“That’s...actually fair. So what did you find?” 

“At first glance her death records seemed legit. Then when you look closer, the whole story falls apart.” 

Simmons angles his computer so Wash can look. “Allegedly, her cause of death was a gunshot to the chest that would have entered her heart, killing her instantly. The funeral was closed casket, which is common for people who die of injuries like that, except that it would be very out of character for Carolina, given that-” 

Simmons looks at Wash as if expecting him to know the answer. 

“What?” 

Simmons sighs. “She was raised Jewish and according to her will and testament, which is on record, expected a funeral as such. It’s not too common to have closed casket funerals, from what I understand. Didn’t you do your own work?”

Wash remembers now. “Right. The newspaper said her service was held at a synagogue.” 

“Exactly. It was closed to the public, too. But I managed to get some records.” 

Simmons types for a few seconds on his laptop. 

“And?” Wash prods. 

“And there’s no record of her father- well, hers and Church’s- attending any part of the ceremony.”

“Mother?” 

“Died shortly after giving birth to Church.” 

“Who’s the father?” 

“That’s tricky,” Simmons says, nervousness creeping into his voice. “I dug that up, too.” 

“Well?” 

Simmons clicks on something, and Wash blinks. 

It’s a photograph. And Wash has seen part of it before. 

He pulls the picture of Carolina out of his pocket and holds it up to the screen. “Holy shit.” 

It’s Carolina, from that old picture Church kept on the corkboard, seated in a family portrait with her brother and a man Wash recognizes quite intimately. 

“That’s-- their father is-” 

“Dr. Leonard Church senior,” Simmons confirms. “The most powerful person in Blood Gulch.” 

Looking now, Wash can absolutely see the resemblance between the three. Carolina and Church, he notes, look like they would rather be anywhere but in that picture now that it’s contextualized. 

“It would be a nice family picture if he wasn’t batshit insane,” Simmons comments. “The director, I mean.” 

“No wonder Carolina was so competitive,” Wash muses. “Her father was the director of the BGPD. She must have thought we all knew.” 

“Church disappears from the public eye at about thirteen or fourteen, according to the records,” Simmons says. “Carolina, however, stays. Until her supposed death.” 

“You’re saying she faked her death to get away from him.” 

“It’s a possibility.” 

“Understood.” Wash turns towards the door. “I have some leads on where she might be right now. I’m going to find her, and find out for sure what’s going on in this city. And what the director has to do with it.”

“Well good luck. Because that’s gonna take a while.” 

“Simmons.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get a list of nightclubs in Blood Gulch? Particularly the poorer districts?”

Simmons sighs. “Yeah. I can do that.”


	7. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash meets a mysterious, not-so-dynamic, familiar duo who are looking for the same thing he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Perry (jaxjoenes on tumblr) and Mark (falsedead on tumblr) for helping me come up with the "Bert and Ernie" gag. You're great friends and thank you for being fans of this fic.

Wash has to wonder what on earth got him into the situation he’s currently in: pinned up against the alleyway wall outside a nightclub by the woman who used to be his boss, her hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, as a man that brings “weaselly” to a new level and his quiet, intimidating sidekick. Or partner. Wash isn’t sure which. 

Mentally, he rewinds. 

Club Errera was one of the shadiest, most visited clubs in Blood Gulch nightlife. Wash had been visiting these types of places all week, several per night, in fact. Watching the locals. Rotating between a few to see who filtered in. 

Looking for a familiar face.

Before even finding Carolina, Wash had noticed a rival presence that was certainly going to become a problem far prior to even locating the missing woman. 

The rival presence was of unclear origin. Wash wasn’t sure what to do with them apart from keep an eye on them, because with the way they stood out, there was no question they were looking for someone too. 

However, Wash couldn’t tell if they were on the same trail as him, or tailing him.

Wash, despite his better taste, did an okay job blending in. Jeans go everywhere, so does a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. At least, it keeps the drunk girls chatting with you, which makes you blend in. (Wash is too...into guys, to care how hot they think his forearms are. He can appreciate a compliment, but really.) 

He notices the duo on night four. 

The taller one is hard to detect weapons on, but Wash would guess silenced pistol. He’s dark-skinned, with a distinctive x-shaped scar on his face, and dresses more formally than his co-worker. 

The short one clearly is carrying a knife of some kind- Wash thinks either a switchblade or a very cleverly concealed hunting knife. He wears a suit with the bowtie undone night after night, and slicks his hair back into a style Wash can’t help but ridicule. Plus, he looks painfully skinny. Even more so than Church. 

Wash nicknames them Bert and Ernie. Just to keep them straight in his head. Tall one’s Bert, short one’s Ernie. Easy enough. 

Wash notices them, at first, because Bert stands out in a crowd. Every time Wash spots them, the guy looks like he would rather be anywhere else. Which really just proves he’s there for business. 

A few hours in to night four, Wash tails Ernie to the men’s room with Bert, and eavesdrops by pretending to smoke a cigarette he lifted from a frat boy on the dance floor. 

“There are none of our targets in this...disgusting place,” growls one voice- Wash’s guess is Bert. 

“Bullshit. You’re being a hypocrite and instead of being your usual, blah blah blah, we gotta focus on the  _ job _ , you just wanna get out of the club.” 

“What gave you that idea,” Bert replies through gritted teeth. Wash taps the cigarette on the wall. Ash scatters across the floor. 

“You’re no fun,” Ernie gripes. “Just let me have some shots and sleep with a sorority chick, alright?” 

“We’re working.” 

“Whatever! This is a club! We can’t all look like tired bodyguards like  _ you. _ ” 

“Shut up and do your job. We don’t get paid until we track down the targets.” 

“Half of them left town,” Ernie grumbles. “I’m sure we’re gonna get notice in two days that some of them did the same, and once they’re across the county line, control stops paying. Why put in all the work for nothing?”

“For the chance that there will be something,” Bert growls, and Wash, hearing him approaching the door, drops the half-burned cigarette and returns to the dance floor. 

Pretending to return to the drunk bachelorette party that he had previously been begrudgingly entertaining, Wash watches the duo exit the bathroom hall. Ernie squats over the cigarette and looks at the smoking butt for what feels like forever. He says something Wash can’t recognize to Bert. 

Then, they both melt into the night, gone as quickly as Wash spotted them. 

-

On day five, Wash takes a risk, founded on the hunch that if he goes out again the duo might recognize him. And the inference that they likely hunt down those who escaped the director’s conspiracy- like him. 

So Wash dyes his hair back to black with some cheap, two-day hair coloring, and gets his hands on contact lenses to make his eyes bright blue instead of forest green. He looks a little like Church, he thinks. Huh. 

The disguise, though, appropriately masks his true identity, and with that, he hits the nightlife. 

It doesn’t take Wash long to spot the duo again. 

Bert still looks just as uncomfortable as the night before. Wash almost feels a little sorry for him. He doesn’t like these places much either, to be honest. 

It’s about three in the morning when Wash sees them make for the back rooms- with the body language of a rendezvous, not a chase. So Wash tries the same tactic that served him last night: faking a smoke next to the door they hide in. 

“I got a tip,” Ernie says, taunting. 

“I told you we would find something."

“Don’t be so smug.” 

There’s a beat, and Wash guesses that Bert is making a very tired face at his companion, because Ernie laughs.

“Heard of someone matching the description of one we already crossed off the list.” 

“How does that happen.” 

“Presumed dead.” 

“Where can we find them.”

“According to the girl I talked to, Errera, tomorrow night.” 

Wash’s ears prick up. Errera. He’s heard that name before. 

“Then can we leave.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Fuckin’ grump.” 

Wash makes to leave, but they’re already exiting the door and spot him. 

_ Shit. Think fast. _

Ernie growls, reaching for what’s probably a weapon. “What’d you hear?” 

It’s been a while since Wash tried this, but he’s pretty sure neither of them would be able to tell, so he begins gesturing with his hands. 

[Hear is probably a strong word for anything my ears do] 

He hasn’t practiced sign since Maine died. But he grits his teeth (figuratively, it’d be too big a body language cue to do it literally) and presses on. 

[I didn’t know anyone was in there] 

[Sorry]

Ernie removes one hand from where he was probably keeping his knife. “Deaf?” 

Wash nods as if grateful that they’re understanding his meaning. Bert stares him down with some suspicion, and Wash looks at him with a hopefully-fully-realized innocent gaze. 

[I’m sorry to bother you,] Wash signs, then makes his escape- not just from the duo, but from the club entirely. 

In the car, he takes out his contacts and resolves to rinse out the dye when he gets home. 

Tomorrow, he’s either going to find his boss, or save someone else from those two.

Which is what brings him to Club Errera.


	8. Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash gets what he's been looking for.

Club Errera isn’t like the dives Wash has been frequenting for the last week. Not at all. 

It’s in a warehouse, but it’s actually genuinely decorated. This is because Errera is a legitimate business. Legitimate, Wash figures, a term that’s a stretch. It’s a registered location with the government, sure. But that in no way means Errera’s squeaky clean. Wash knows the kind of things that flow through any club come to Errera, too. It’s just that this place is the nicest one in town to make such dealings. 

The walls look as though they’re stained purple, but it’s just the lights. Most of the place is taken up by a lit dance floor, and the bar’s in the back. 

Wash hasn’t spotted his two friends- “Bert” and “Ernie”- so he makes his way over to the bar and takes a seat. 

He gestures to the bartender. “Whiskey on the rocks.” 

Wash swivels around in his seat and looks at the beautiful view of the club the bar affords him. Around the dance floor are tables, though most are unused. Waitresses in different, colorful dresses work their way between the tables, bringing appetizers and drinks. 

The bartender hands Wash his whiskey, and Wash takes a sip slowly. 

For a second, Wash thinks he spots something on the dance floor, then sits back, frowning curiously. 

For a second he thought he saw her. 

“Hey, buddy,” The bartender says. Wash looks back at him. “You know a waitress here?” 

Wash’s stomach jumps. “Don’t know?” 

The bartender jerks his thumb towards the door behind him. “Well, Carly just paged me that she’ll give me a hundred if I let you in the employee lounge during her break, so you had better know soon.” 

“And you’re sure she meant me.”

“Yeah, she said the blond with the green eyes and freckles who looks like someone shat in his cereal. Definitely meant you.” 

“Geez, thanks,” Wash mutters. He knocks back the rest of his whiskey and slides the cup over to the bartender, along with a ten-dollar bill he lifted on the dance floor. “Down there?” 

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” 

Wash slides off the barstool and heads for the employees only room. 

-

He’s not sure what he expects when he opens the door to the employee lounge, but he doesn’t expect to be slammed into the wall by his left arm. The force behind him presses him into the wall, bending his arm back, almost enough to break. 

“Who are you working for,” growls his captor, and Wash wishes his face wasn’t smashed into the wall too hard to grin. 

“Carolina.” 

“Washington. Tell me who you’re working for. Now or I break your arm.” 

“I’m working for me,” Wash says, “If I’m working  _ for _ anyone it’s your brother."

Wash can feel Carolina’s shock in the way she loosens her grip on him for a second. 

“Leonard?” 

“Jesus christ, is that his first name,” Wash mutters. “Yes, but he goes by Church now.” 

“He’s alive?” 

“In the city,” Wash confirms. “I can take you to him.” 

“Where.” 

“Abandoned apartment block. I’ve been crashing with him and his friends. He’s the only one I met who believed you weren’t dead.” 

“He asked you to look for me?” 

“He didn’t ask,” Wash says dryly. “I chose to look for you.”

Carolina releases him and spins him around to face her. “Take me to Leonard-  _ Church- _ and I won’t break both of your legs.” 

“Believe me, I don’t need any motivation to do that,” Wash replies. He digs in his pocket. “After I moved in with them he asked me what I remembered about you, and then I found this.”

He hands Carolina the picture of her. Her eyes soften slightly. Now that they’re facing each other, Wash can see that she looks different. She used to dye her hair red and in order to hide, she stopped. Now her hair is the same length and tied back, but jet black. She looks more like Church, as Wash thought she would with her natural hair. 

She’s wearing a mint green lacy cocktail dress, and ribboned stilettos to match- an outfit Wash never expected to see her in, but he supposes it comes with the job. 

“This photo of us was in our front hall for two years,” Carolina says softly. “It was taken when I was fifteen and he was eleven. He stole it when he left. I thought he would have gone to burn it.” she sighs. “Father cropped him out of the second printing and kept the picture of me.” 

Wash makes a surprised noise. “Harsh.”

“I…” Carolina pauses, then reaches into the waistband of her dress and pulls out her wallet. “Stole the third copy. He never noticed, anyway.” 

Tucked into her wallet is a picture of a young Leonard Church junior that Wash recognizes. 

“Seems like the feeling was mutual,” Wash muses. 

“I can tell you about how Leonard and our father didn’t get along later. I need to see him.  _ Now. _ ” 

“I get the feeling you’re going to have trouble with that considering that you work here,  _ Carly.” _

Carolina glares. “You do what you have to do to survive.” 

Wash is almost sure Church has said that to him, word for word. 

“I think two tails here might be looking for you, too,” Wash adds. “I’ve run into them before on the hunt for you. Sounds like they run cleanup for y--” Wash breaks off. That sentence should really not end in ‘your father’. “Hargrove, or someone.” 

Carolina nods, looking at the pictures side by side. “Can I keep this.” 

“You can for now,” Wash says. “Church might want it back. Can’t say.” 

Carolina tucks it into her wallet, and her wallet back into her dress. “Alright. Tails. What’re we looking for.”

“One tall, probably hispanic, scarred face. Long hair. Grey eyes. Buff. The other one’s short, skinny, wears his hair like a douche. I’ve been calling them Bert and Ernie.” 

Carolina stifles a smirk. “Good names.” 

“Seemed fitting.” 

“What’s their M.O?”

“They come through the front and scout places for anyone they’re looking for,” Wash says. “I barely avoided them last time we met. My luck’s going to run out soon with these two.” 

“We’d better check the front before we go, then,” Carolina muses. “I have a car in the back.” 

“How did you- never mind.” 

“My boss drives an Audi,” Carolina says with a smirk. “You’d be surprised what hotwiring can do.”

“So it’s not  _ your _ car,” Wash says with a sigh. “You and Church really are siblings.” 

Carolina drags Wash up to the door and leans out. “That them?"

She and Wash swap positions. Wash casts his eyes across the dance floor before meeting the eyes of “Bert.” 

Wash ducks back behind the door. “Yep. That’s them. And I think they saw me.”

“Shit,” Carolina hisses. She bends over and takes off her shoes. “These stupid things need to go.” 

She hangs the shoes off of her hand and grabs Wash. “Follow me right now.” 

Wash doesn’t have to be asked twice. As they start to run down the hall, the door slams open. “Bert” is standing in it, holding a gun, flanked by “Ernie” with a knife.

“Don’t look back,” Wash advises. 

“Why the hell would I look back!” 

Carolina drags Wash around a corner and Wash barely dodges a thrown hunting knife. 

“They’re going out the back. Felix, go cut them off.” 

“Locus. I want my knife back,” Felix- who Wash had been mentally referring to as Ernie- whines. 

“I’ll get it for you. Just make sure they don’t get away.” 

“Fine,” Felix grouses, before running away back towards the club. Wash hears the other one- Locus- pull the knife out of the wall. 

“In here,” Carolina hisses, pulling Wash into a supply closet. 

Which brings Wash to his position- up against the wall, Carolina covering his mouth, hearing the two mercs pace around outside. 

“I did  _ not _ miss them,” Locus growls. “You didn’t make it to the back door soon enough.” 

“Please,” Felix snorts, “As if they could get away that fast with the girl in her bare feet  _ or _ those stupid waitress shoes. No. They’re still around here, Locs. They think they can trick me-” 

“The chances they have no idea who you are are  _ overwhelming, _ ” Locus says dryly. “As are the chances that the girl is not the target we were tasked with retrieving and her friend is not the one we were asked to kill. Our view of them was inconclusive.” 

“Well we need to check, then, don’t we! It’s like-- it’s like you’ve forgotten how this works!"

“I’m aware of how this works,” Locus bites out. “I’m aware we always lose a target when you refuse to keep an even head and listen to me.” 

“You’re fucking delusional,” Felix spits, and Wash hears Locus punch the wall several feet away from their hiding place. “They  _ are _ here, okay, I fucking know it- Locus!” 

“They’re moving down the hall,” Carolina whispers. “Now’s our chance.” 

As the mercenaries’ footsteps move further away, Carolina quietly pops the supply closet door open. “Go,” she hisses, and she and Wash sprint towards the exit. 

There’s a screech that sounds inhuman but is probably just Felix, and Wash dodges another knife. 

“They’re getting away, idiot!”  

Carolina slams the door behind her and busts out the window on an audi parked behind the club. The car alarm starts, but with practiced ease, she opens the door from the inside and lets Wash into the passenger seat as she bends over and punches open the panels under the steering wheel. 

“How long’s the door gonna delay them?” Wash asks, watching the motion of the door as someone- probably Felix- bangs on it. 

“Depends,” Carolina says, touching two of the cut wires together and listening to the engine rumble. “Does one of them carry a gun?” 

“I think Locus does.” 

“Big guy?” 

“Yeah.” 

As if on cue, Wash hears the unmistakable sound of the door splintering. “Uh, boss? That’s probably your cue to get us out of he-” 

The car starts, and Carolina shifts it into drive, handing Wash her shoes. “Buckle up.” 

“Do you mean that on a scale of-” 

“Wash. York taught me how to drive in high pressure situations.” 

“Ah. So you mean it.” 

Carolina guns the engine, making smoke clouds out of the tires. “Yeah. I do.” 

As the mercs behind them bust through the door, Carolina peels out of the alley behind Errera and away. 


	9. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting Carolina home is uneventful. There's some talking to be done, though.

The apartment is farther from Errera than Wash remembers on his public transit trip there. It leaves him sitting in silence with Carolina. 

“Can we make a stop?” Carolina asks. “A fast one.”

“Why?” 

“If I’m seeing Leonard again, I want to dye my hair.” 

“Boss, you won’t be able to fix it before he sees you.” 

“I know that, Wash. But I want to do it again.” 

“Alright,” Wash says with a shrug. “Be fast and careful.” 

“That implies that I would be going alone,” Carolina points out. “No, you’re coming in with me.”

Wash sighs. “Fine.”

-

The drugstore Carolina stops at is deserted at this time of night. Carolina wanders the aisles, locating the right shades of bleach and red. 

“I started dying it at about thirteen,” she says, picking through the boxes. “Didn’t like how without it, father, Leonard and I looked like creepy clones.” 

“I wouldn’t say  _ that, _ ” Wash says. Carolina shrugs. 

“Looked more like mom, anyway.” her mouth twitches with a smirk as she looks at the front of a box. 

“Your mother died when you were young, right?” 

Carolina sighs. “Yeah. After Leonard was born. Bout a year after. She worked as a cop, too. Went back on active duty and never came home.” 

Carolina pulls the wallet out of her waistband and pays in cash at the counter. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I only remember bits of her and Leonard doesn’t remember anything at all.” 

“Still, it can’t have been easy.”

Carolina lets out a dry laugh. “Nothing about growing up in that house was  _ easy. _ ” 

“Guess not.” 

“Leonard didn’t say much, did he.” 

“No.” 

“I’ll explain what I’ve been doing after I catch up with him,” Carolina says. “If he’s been trying to find me, he deserves answers first.” 

“I was trying to find you.”

“But you’re not family,  _ Wash. _ ”

“Ugh,” Wash mutters, sinking down into the carseat. “Fine.”

-

“He’s been living here for ten years?” Carolina says with a touch of astonishment as Wash directs her to the apartment complex. 

“He’s twenty-three?” 

“Twenty four on Tuesday,” she corrects. Wash shakes his head slightly. 

“Jesus christ.” 

Carolina parks next to Tex’s odd little fleet of vehicles (a motorcycle, and the car she had picked Wash up in). “There’s no door.” 

Wash gets out of the passenger seat and sighs. “Hang on.” 

In a practiced motion, he throws a rock out of the rubble at the trapdoor. 

“Who is it!” 

“Wash. Let me in.” 

“What is the password!” 

“Church didn’t set one this week. Besides, I have someone here he wants to see.” 

“He is not back yet,” Caboose says. 

“That’s fine, Caboose, let me up anyway.”

“Okay!” 

The trapdoor opens, and Caboose drops the ladder. 

“Come on, boss.” 

Carolina stares. “He did not.” 

“I’m not really sure if he did this,” Wash admits. “But it’s here.” 

“I need to have a talk with him,” Carolina says with a slow shake of her head. “Let’s go.” 

-

Church doesn’t get home until the break of dawn. The time until then Wash spends with Carolina, helping her re-dye her hair. Caboose tries to ask her some questions about what Church was like as a child, most of which she indulges, although Wash can tell she’s hiding something. 

Caboose doesn’t really care. 

Wash is blow-drying Carolina’s new, red hair, when he hears a knock on the trapdoor. “Caboose! Door!” 

“Oh! I was not watching the door! That must be Church! Church!! Mr. Washingtub has brought someone to see you!” 

Wash listens to Church climbing up the ladder as he ties Carolina’s hair back for her. 

“What? He what? Doesn’t he know the house rules, we don’t bring anyone here unless it’s an emergen--cy…” Church’s voice trails off as Carolina steps out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Leo.” 

“Lina,” Church says, and the two awkwardly embrace in the small hallway. Wash, for their dignity, won’t acknowledge how the hug is indeed awkward, but tight and genuine.

“Everyone thought you were dead,” Church says quietly. “I didn’t.”

“Kitchen?” Carolina asks. “Your friend and Wash can join us.” 

“Oh!” Caboose exclaims. “I will make the coffee! The stayed up all night stealing coffee!” 

He bounds down the hall like an excited golden retriever. Church shakes his head slightly. 

“We have a lot of catching up to do.”


	10. Declarations of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church and Carolina catch up. Wash finally gets all that exposition Church was being cagey about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short warning for new and returning readers: this is where the "implied/referenced child abuse" tag comes into play in just about full force, because Church and Carolina talk about the director. There aren't any flashbacks or the like, but both paint a pretty clear picture of the guy. Here's your heads-up on that front.

Caboose’s coffee is a little burned, but Church distracts him with a handful of credit cards and a directive to get hacking.

Carolina drinks it black anyway. She and Church sit at the table, while Tucker hops up onto the counter, and Wash leans on it next to him.

“For the longest time,” Carolina says, “I judged you for leaving. I was mad at you. I thought you were being a child. I thought any day now you would come back and realize your mistakes. Then I discovered that you did the right thing.”

“C…”

“You did what you had to to escape that man. I didn’t.  _ I’m _ the one who made the mistake. Can you forgive me?” 

“C, of course I do,” Church replies. “I know we had a fight before I left but I never thought it was your fault. That’s how the old man works. He made you think he was right. And that’s not on you.” 

Church stirs his coffee absently. “I was devastated when I heard you died. I had been hoping that now...as adults...we could reconcile.” 

“We can.”

“Lucky us,” Church muses. “I went to the funeral.” 

“You did? I thought he paid for everything.” 

“Paid, but he didn’t show up. I wanted to show up for the blessings, but he wouldn’t let anyone in the funeral home until the event. I went.” 

Carolina looks surprised. “You prayed for me.” 

“Of course I did,” Church says, as if it’s obvious. “You’re my sister.”

“When the old man dies, though, you’re going to break every custom just to spite him.” 

“Of course I am. I get to choose what family I like and I don’t like him. I like you.” 

Carolina smiles a bit. “I like you too, Leo. Now, who’s your friend?”

“Oh, um...C, this is Tucker.”

“Hey.”

“He’s the one who helped me leave.” 

“You been taking care of him?” 

“Yes ma’am,” Tucker says lightly. “Make sure he eats, sleeps, and brings in the money.” 

“And that’s what you do now? You steal?” 

“Yeah. Here and there. Off the street. T-- uh...Wash and Tex handle the big jobs.”

“Tex is here?”

“Well, not right now. She...crashes here sometimes. Most of the time. You’re not still mad at her, are you? She said you didn’t get along on the force.”

“Are you two…?”

“Not anymore.”

“ _ Anymore? _ ” Carolina looks at Church, who gives her an almost pleading look, causing her to sigh. “I can tolerate her.” 

“Thank you.” 

“How long did you know him?” Carolina asks. “Was it before…” 

“I met Tucker just before I left. He helped me get out. Been together ever since.”

“Don’t worry,” Tucker says cheerfully. “Heard all the stories.”

“Why didn’t you leave town?” 

Church sighs. “He didn’t tell you. Of course.” 

He traces the rim of his still-full coffee cup with one hand. “I don’t pretend that he doesn’t know what I do or where I am. He does. He just never cared about making me go back. We never met face to face, but his agents cut us a deal. We don’t leave the city and we get to do as we please. How do you think we’ve never got caught? The second I tried to board a bus or train headed out of the county, I would get dragged back to that shitty house. And you lived there. You know I can’t do that.” 

“We could evade him, Leonard, together.” 

“He’s got eyes everywhere, C.” 

“The mercenaries who tailed us at the club tonight,” Wash interrupts gently. “They said they had orders to bring you back.” 

“Sounds like he didn’t believe it either,” Church mutters. “I’m not letting him take you back, C. I can’t.” 

“I don’t want to,” Carolina assures him. “No. From here on out this isn’t a survival op. It’s about taking him down. For what he did to everyone in the BGPD, and for what he did to us.” 

“Glad we’re on the same side this time, sis.” 

“This’s war. We go down standing against him or he goes down to us.”

Church and Carolina shake hands. 

“We have a lot of work to do, C.” 

“Start tonight?”

“Good idea.” 

Church stands up. “Tucker? C’mon.” 

“Yeah, dude.” 

Church and Tucker exit, and Carolina looks at Wash. 

“We need to talk. Anywhere quiet in this joint?” 

“Follow me.” 

\--

Carolina drains the rest of her coffee on the roof with Wash as they watch the sun come up.  

“So what was all that?” 

She sighs. “So you really wanna know about our family, huh.” 

Carolina sits down on the edge of the roof, setting her coffee mug to the side. 

“After mom died, things changed. Before we had something even vaguely resembling a healthy family dynamic, but afterwards…” She sighs, looking down at her lap. “After they told us, and after the service, dad basically disappeared for two weeks. I took care of Leo that whole time, begging him to come back. I was four, Leo was two, we needed him.” 

“And when he came back?” 

“It sounds dramatic, but when he came back, he didn’t care about us anymore. He paid off a fleet of different people to take care of making sure we were fed and educated. The only things he took responsibility for were making sure they were doing their jobs...and discipline.” 

She shudders. Wash sits down next to her. 

“Anyway. There were rules, and the rules had to be followed, and that’s where Leo and I...stopped agreeing. You see, I followed the rules in the hope that one day, that time when he was a good person would come back. Leo, stubborn as always...he refused once he felt it was right. And he was right.” 

“So what happened?” 

“There was a schedule,” Carolina says, a little distant. “Get up at 6:30 on the dot. Get dressed. He’d check our outfits before school, and persuade or guilt us into changing if he thought it was wrong. We’d be at school precisely on time, fifteen minutes before, or else. The only excuse for it was traffic, and even then, it made him mad. No missing classes unless you were vomiting or had uncontrollable diarrhea. You could be running a fever of 125 and he would tell you that that’s not how this family works and send you off with the driver. He  _ did _ it. To me and to Leo. I should have seen sense then. I know it’s when Leo did.” 

“So he was strict.” 

“Leo would say ridiculously so. In retrospect...I agree.” She lets out a breath. “So...at thirteen I caught Leo sneaking out of his room with three bags of stuff. We had an argument. I told him he had to stay, that he was being a child, and that it wasn’t that bad. He begged me to leave with him and tried to make me see reason. I refused.” 

“And he left.” 

“Our father barely noticed the next morning, except to remove Leo from the family portrait. They always hated each other. Leo had the worst of the punishments, the worst of everything, every day. I think he was happy he finally drove Leo away.” 

“That’s...terrible.” 

“So...I tried to forget about it. Forget that I had a brother. No one ever asked about him, I guess because he cut that deal with our father’s men and our father covered it up. It was like Leonard Church junior never even existed.” 

“But you couldn’t forget, could you.” 

“No,” she replies. “I joined the unit, and I saw everyone getting along- before the deaths and accidents started, you know. I met York. I met you. As I started to fall for that idiot, building a real healthy relationship...and watching you- you really reminded me of him- I realized that if I was going to be there with the good guys I needed to practice what I preach. I wanted to find him. I was going to bring it up to York and some of them I trusted, but then…”

“...the accidents started.”

Carolina nods. “We know now that CT got too close to the truth about our father, so he arranged for her to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And then Maine, and the twins, and York retired after his injury and moved away.”

“When did you decide to fake your own death?”

“It was almost impulse, really. I took advantage of the other ‘accidents.’ The difference would only be apparent to someone who knew me at all, or knew who he is. I went underground. I wanted to finish what I started- find my brother and leave- but I never had the funds or connections to start a deeper search.”

“Until I turned up on your doorstep.”

“Precisely. And I’m grateful.”

She sighs, slumping slightly. “Though I’m not sure if he really does forgive me.” 

“That sounds more like something you have to ask him yourself.” 

“I guess so. But...rest first. We’ve got work to do, starting tonight.” 

Carolina pats him gently on the shoulder. “Thank you for finding me for him.” 

“No problem.”


	11. Dawn of the First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline Church has a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act two begins with a bit of following Carolina! 
> 
> I'm currently projecting this at 30 chapters, 3 act structure, so we should be at about the halfway point quite soon, if I pull this off. 
> 
> Happy reading!

After talking to Wash, Carolina comes back downstairs to her younger brother waiting for her in the hall. 

“I was hoping to get some rest rather than another lecture from you,” she says, gently teasing. 

“Ha. Ha. I cleared out a room on the third floor for you. You’ll have all that space to yourself unless we take in any more strays, so go wild.” 

“You have that space?” 

“This building was built and wired and ready to go in the 80s, then they abandoned it for lack of funding. We got space, and when Tucker and I moved in we found a bunch of old mattresses. Not really worn out, otherwise okay. Stole a few blankets and moved the rest to the third floor, now it’s just home. We pull one down whenever someone new shows.” 

Carolina looks up and down the hall until she sees the piece of cardboard that Church has written his name on in blue sharpie with his neat handwriting. 

“So this one is yours?” 

“Yeah. The doors were torn off down here cause kids would sneak in and screw around. Became kind of a tradition to staple a blanket to the door instead.” 

“I could put one at the top of the stairs,” Carolina muses. “If you really think I’m the last stray you’re going to take in.” 

“Definitely,” Church says. “I was against bringing Wash here in the first place. Tex insisted.”

“Did she? Guess you’re gonna have to tell Tex you were  _ wrong. _ ”

“Oh, shut up, you know that’s a problem for both of us.” Church glares, but not with any intent. “I...put some blankets and stuff on your mattress. And a pillow. Minimal, but, anything I can do…”

“Thank you. Really. It’s better than what I’ve been doing these past few months, I can tell you that.”

Carolina leans over to her brother and gives him a hug that’s meant to be short, but turns long by accident. 

“This lot,” Church says. “The building. He owns it. Trace it back through some light fraudulent names, but he does. That’s why everyone leaves this place alone.” 

“He wants to pin us down even if we don’t live with him anymore,” she replies, “but that changes tomorrow. I promise.”

“C, I grew up for ten years without you, you don’t need to feel like you need to protect me or fix things for me.” 

“Just because I don’t need to…” 

“Can’t make a Church do anything,” Church grumbles. “Get some rest.” 

“Night, Leo.” 

“Night C.” 

Carolina drags herself upstairs and barely tangles herself in the blankets her brother left her before falling asleep. 

-

_ The baby’s crying again.  _

_ Okay, Leonard Jr. isn’t a baby really- not anymore. Carolina has vague memories at the edge of her mind of bringing him home from the hospital with mom- she remembers being amazed at how he looked so small and fragile.  _

_ But it’s midmorning on a Sunday, and it’s been four days since the men came to the door to talk to their father, and she has to take care of him. So Leonard Jr. might as well be a baby.  _

_ Carolina gets up from the couch where she was watching cartoons, and runs upstairs.  _

_ “Leo?”  _

_ The door to her father’s room is locked. It’s been locked these past four days, no matter how much she knocks on it and begs him for help.  _

_ Leo’s sitting in his baby crib, sniffling a bit. “C...Car’lina?”  _

_ “Yeah, it’s me.”  _

_ “I had an accident.”  _

_ “You started using the toilet ages ago,” Carolina murmurs, dragging a stepstool over to the crib so she can reach.  _

_ “Yeah. But I was scared.”  _

_ Carolina lifts Leonard out of his crib and puts him on the diaper table their parents thankfully haven’t removed yet. He sits patiently as she cleans up his sheets first.  _

_ “Carrie?”  _

_ “Mhm?”  _

_ “Where’s mom?”  _

_ Carolina pauses. She knows that what’s happening is because their mother hasn’t come home yet. And she’s about at the age where she can suspect that their mother isn’t coming home at all.  _

_ “I don’t know, Leo.” _

_ “Does papa know?”  _

_ “I bet.” _

_ “Then why won’t he tell us?”  _

_ “I dunno.”  _

_ Leo sniffles a bit again. “I want mom back.”  _

_ Carolina knows. She does too. When mom’s around, dad never disappears for this long. He only goes away when he’s working and when he comes back, he plays with them until mom faux-exasperatedly tells him to stop messing with the kids. He makes dinner, too, which Carolina misses.  _

_ “Lemme help you change. Come on.”  _

_ Carolina picks up her little brother, even though they’re close to the same size, and carries him down the hall to the bathroom.  _

_ “Why won’t dad come help us?”  _

_ “I dunno that either,” Carolina says with a sigh, helping her brother get undressed so she can clean him up. “But Leo, I promise, even if he never comes out of that room, I’m gonna look after you, so it’ll be okay. Alright?”  _

_ “Okay.”  _

-

Carolina jerks awake at an early, reasonable five-thirty pm. She sits up slowly, and runs a hand through her newly redyed hair. 

She could use a shower, a few minutes to brush her hair, and new clothes. She had to sleep in her underwear last night, and the only thing she has right now is the stupid dress from the job she...forcibly quit last night. 

She puts on the dress and goes to steal clothes from her brother. 

That’s what healthy, normal siblings do, right?

Sure it is. 

Carolina has a fortunate awareness of the fact that after long days (or late nights) Church can sleep like a rock, so she’s not too worried about sneaking into his room and borrowing- “borrowing”- a pair of sweatpants and a worn t-shirt. 

To irritate him, she leaves the dress in his laundry pile, and heads for the kitchen.

It looks like no one else is up, so she relaxes, and makes herself a bowl of...some kind of healthy cereal. Looks like it’s probably Wash’s. It’ll do. 

There’s a jug of whole milk that’s half full, and a smaller one of fat-free that’s closer to full. Carolina, again, suspects that the latter is Wash’s. 

On this one, though, she sides with the rest of the house. Whole milk it is. 

Sitting down and eating slowly for the first time in a while gives her a moment to digest what’s been going on for her over the past 24 hours. 

Which is...a lot. 

She crosses her legs under her chair, and waits. 

Surprisingly, Tucker is the first person to enter the kitchen. He’s just wearing boxers, and his hair isn’t tied back like it was when he got home last night. 

He gives Carolina a nod, and sets about making himself what looks to be bacon and eggs. 

They sit in a somewhat-awkward silence for a while before Tucker speaks while he cooks.

“So.”

Carolina looks at him. Does he really want to chat right now? She barely knows this guy apart from that he’s been looking after Church for the past decade.

“What’re you gonna do when you bust the old cunt?”

Carolina blinks. “You mean our father?” 

“Yeah.”

“I want to find my ex-boyfriend.” 

“Damn, of course you had a boyfriend.” 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” 

“Just that you’re fuckin’ hot, man. Don’t worry, not hitting on you, Church would kill me! Just sayin, I got eyes.” 

“I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment,” Carolina says dryly. “Yes, I had a boyfriend. He was one of the only survivors I hear. Lives out in the country now, runs a farm.” 

“No offense, Church’s hot sister-” Carolina glares at that, but Tucker seems to have no filter. “-but I dunno if I can imagine you out on the ranch takin’ care of the chickens and whatnot.” 

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Carolina replies pointedly. 

“Alright, alright, whatever. You kosher too?” 

“No bacon, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Gotcha, gotcha. So what’s your plan?” 

“To take down our father?” 

“Yeah. You can’t just take him on like-” Tucker snaps his fingers for emphasis- “That. Believe me, Church would have tried. When I took him out of there he was…” he pauses, thinking. “Bitter. Angry. Tired of it. Like a stray cat who’ll hiss at whatever he hates. And there’s nothing he hates more than his-  _ your _ father.” 

“Well that makes two of us.” 

“So what  _ is _ your plan, here, huh?”

“The law is shot,” Carolina says thoughtfully. “There’s nothing any lawperson who enters this city can do about that. However…”

“However what?” 

“There is one last entity to report this mess to.” 

“And that is?” 

“The court of public opinion.” Carolina smirks. “Tucker, what do you know about the newspapers in Blood Gulch?” 

“I know a chick who edits for the Daily Gazette.” 

“You have her number?” 

“Yeah. I do.” 

“Keep it on hand,” Carolina says. “We’re going to need it.” 

She stands up. “How many pairs of jeans does Leo have?” 

“Two or three. Why?”

“I’m borrowing one,” Carolina says, standing up. “I have some errands to run.” 

“About this?” 

“Kinda.” She puts her bowl in the sink. “Tell Leo I’ll be back in...an hour, maybe. Back by 7. I’ll have a plan of attack by then.” 

“You sure?” 

“Definitely.” 

Carolina leaves to steal more of her brother’s clothes and go for a drive.


	12. Heist Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina outlines her idea to the thieves, including calling in the mercenaries. The good ones, not the bad ones.

When Carolina gets back, she’s carrying bags from a local thrift store and takeout. She has Caboose help her lift it all up. 

“Church is in the kitchen. He is talking to Tucker! They asked me to leave so I could make sure no one hears. But I think it is okay if you go in.” 

“Got it,” Carolina says, still unsure of how to deal with Caboose. She drops her new clothes off upstairs and trots back down to the kitchen. 

“Why are you wearing my clothes.” 

“Because I  _ so _ wanted to go out in public looking like a high-end prostitute,” Carolina snipes. Church rolls his eyes. 

“But you had no issue working at that stupid club in that.” 

“Money’s money. Anyone who wants me to wear that stupid thing has to be paying.” 

“Bow chicka wow wow!” 

“Tucker,” Church growls, and Tucker laughs. 

“So you said you were gonna have a plan, Church’s hot sister?” 

“Tucker!” 

“Re-laaax. I’m not gonna bang your sister. That’d be weird.” 

“You never know when to shut up.” 

Carolina leans forwards on the table. “Get Tex, Wash, and Caboose. We’re going to run the biggest theft you’ve ever done.” 

“That’s a pretty lofty claim, sis,” Church says, raising his eyebrows. “What do you have in mind?” 

“We’re going to steal dad’s personal computer.” 

“What? No way. Impossible. You’ve fucking lost it since fake-dying.” 

“Seriously, just hear me out.”

“That thing is the most secure source of information in this entire city. He uses an old fashioned desktop so we can’t just lift it out and crack it at home, it’s encrypted and you and I  _ both _ know that thing is the height of technology, cause he doesn’t take anything less than the best. So what’re we gonna do with  _ that? _ ” 

“We’ve got two inside sources on the house,” Carolina points out. “He hasn’t changed much and he doesn’t expect us to mess with him. He doesn’t know Wash and Tex are with you, does he?” 

“No.” 

“He doesn’t, and he doesn’t know we have a hacker.” 

“Yeah, we have  _ Caboose- _ ” 

“And,” Carolina presses, “Wash mentioned you have some mercenaries who owe you a favor.” 

Church pauses, then folds his arms, sighing with resignation. “They used to live in the upper stories and we agreed to help them squat in Rutherford in exchange for a favor.” 

“How many?” 

“Five.” 

“You think a team of nine career criminals and three ex-cops can’t rob a paranoid old man who  won’t see us coming.” 

“I don’t, but-” 

Carolina stands up to her full height, folding her arms. “So you’re scared, Leo.” 

Church growls, standing up as well. “I am  _ not. _ ” 

“Sounds to me like you’re a little chicken…” 

“Fuck you. I’ll take the old man down before you can say bribery.” 

Church brushes past Carolina and leans out the kitchen door. “WASH! TEX!” 

There’s a noise from Wash’s room, and Wash leans out the door. He’s still wearing his sleep clothes. “What’s happening?” 

“We’re going to run a job. All of us.” 

“All of us?” Wash asks, raising his eyebrows. Church nods. 

“Yeah. C’mon.” 

Carolina sits down at the table, and leans forward on her elbows. Tucker grins lazily at her. 

“Good idea, hot sister.” 

“Stop calling me that. It’s a gift.” 

Tucker chuckles softly, and puts his feet up on the table. “I’ve been waiting ten years for this. So. What’s so special about that computer?” 

“Bank records. Emails. Everything to do with his dealings with his co-conspirators: Aiden Price and Malcom Hargrove. If the police won’t listen to it, maybe the papers will have a more generous view.” 

“And if the evidence is vague? Or there isn’t any?” 

“Inconclusive evidence opens the conversation anyway. Weakens his position. No evidence, we steal something else. But I  _ doubt _ that’ll happen.” 

“Alright then,” Tucker says with a slow nod. “Where’s the target, then.” 

“Let me brief the whole crew at once,” Carolina says dryly. “Anyone want to go coerce the mercs?” 

“Ugh,” Church says. “Your job. You do it.” 

“Fine. You wait here.” 

“I  _ will. _ ”


	13. Heist Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina recruits some reds. Now everyone's ready to roll.

Carolina knocks assertively on the door of the Rutherford Family Bakery and folds her arms, waiting for an answer. 

“¿Quíen está allí?” (Who is there?)

She blinks, pauses, and tries to respond. “Um...looking for the ‘reds.’ Wash said the one called Sarge calls the shots?” 

“Por supuesto. Un otro de los apartamientos. No podemos alejarnos de ellos.” (Of course. Another one from the apartments. We cannot get rid of you.)

“...do you speak english?”

The speaker sighs. “Nadie pregunta que si pueden hablar español. Por supuesto. Voy a encontrar el sargento. Por favor, entralo.” (No one ever asks to speak spanish [with me.] Of course. I will find Sarge. Please step inside.) 

The door opens slightly, and Carolina watches the speaker gesture to indicate she’s allowed inside. 

“Um…who are you.”

“Mi nombre es Lopez La Pesado. Quedarle aqui por favor.” (My name is Lopez the heavy. Please wait here.)

“Okay…” 

Carolina looks around the front of the old bakery. It looks like a pretty normal storefront to her, but much like the apartments, the ravages of time have had less impact than she would have expected. Lopez disappears into a door labelled “Employees Only.” 

Carolina checks the counters. From the looks of it, the place had been built a long time ago- it’s what people would call ‘retro.’ 

She looks up as the Employees Only door opens. An old man who she has to guess is Sarge storms out. 

“What d’you want, blue?” 

“Blue? Never mind. I have a job for you.” 

Sarge adjusts his body language accordingly. “Well now. What’re you offering.” 

“I need to get some information from someone with a lot of power. Help me get in his house and get it, and you get to take what you want on top.” 

“We don’t do theft for pay, missy. Might wanna go ask your friends back at the apartments.” 

“Oh, I did. They said you owed them a favor?” 

“Damn,” Sarge mutters. “You got a deal, miss…” 

“Carolina,” she says, shaking his hand. “It’s a pleasure. Who’s your team?” 

“Grif! Simmons! Donut! Get out here!” 

The Employees-Only door slams open, as if the people behind it are trying very hard to act like they weren’t just eavesdropping. Behind it are the three people Sarge introduces as his getaway driver Dexter Grif, tech and demo man Dick Simmons, and infiltrator Franklin Delano Donut. 

“Holy shit,” Simmons stammers. “Wash was right. You are alive.” 

“Alive and paying,” Carolina says, brushing the comments off. 

“Look,” Grif says, gesturing with his hands, “When you call us in, it means you’re okay with people getting killed and shit. Y’know that, right?” 

“I have no problem with it. In fact, it’s probably better that way.” 

“Cool.” 

“Ohh, you must be Church’s big sister! The one Wash was asking about!” Donut claps his hands together excitedly. “That’s what you meant, Simmons. You know you should try something with your hair? Braids stay way more organized than ponytails, and they look  _ so _ much better. I’m growing mine out right now, I can help-” 

“Quiet, Donut, you’ll scare her.”

“Aw, but Sarge!” 

“One thing at a time. What’s it you want us to help you with?” 

“Come back to the apartments with me?” Carolina says. “I have to explain it to everyone at once.”

“You heard the boss, men! Pack up and prepare to move out!” 

“Yes sir!” Simmons says, and Grif rolls his eyes. 

As the younger three leave, Carolina lowers her voice. “You five are mercs.”

“Sure are, ma’am.” 

“What do you know about your competition?” 

“There’s the kids downtown who do small-time stuff, but that’s not really competition if you ask me-”

“I’m thinking bigger. Ever run into a pair going by Felix and Locus?” 

“Unfortunately, we have. Big pain in the ass, those two! Job thieves! What makes it worse is how they barely even get along!” Sarge snorts. “If I didn’t figure any better I’d say they’re blackmailing each other into the business!” 

“How do you know they’re not?” 

Sarge shakes his head. “Just a feeling. They hate each other, but it ain’t blackmail, ma’am. It’s bone deep. Blackmail ain’t so personal.” 

Carolina makes a thoughtful noise before standing up to her full height. “They’re a risk of this job. On the other side.”

“Well nothing would give me greater pleasure than to fight them!” Sarge exclaims. “Ain’t nothing they can do to get between you and your...what is it again?” 

“Computer drive.” 

“The woman gets her computer drive or else!” 

Carolina isn’t sure what to say about the reds, but she can at least give them that they’re determined, and so far, helpful. 

“I’ll let you in to the apartment in ten. Don’t be late.” 

Carolina lets herself out the front door. 

As she steps out to the deserted street, a black motorcycle pulls up in front of her and parks on the street. The rider takes off her helmet and walks around to face Carolina. 

“Tex.”

“Carolina.” 

Tex reaches into her pocket and pulls out an index card and a handful of quarters. “There’s a payphone at the end of the block.” 

“What’s this for?” 

“There’s someone at that number who wants to hear from you.” Tex puts her helmet back on and mounts her bike. 

“So why’d you give me this?” 

“Cause I keep my promises,” Tex says. “Tell him I didn’t believe it either.” 

“Him?” 

Tex doesn’t respond, instead she revs her engine and accelerates down the street to the apartments. 

Carolina, curiosity picqued, walks to the payphone, and dials, slipping the extra quarters into her pocket. 

“Hello?” says a distant voice at the other end, and Carolina feels herself put one hand to her mouth in shock and squeeze her eyes shut. 

“It’s you.” 

\--

Wash looks up as Carolina enters the kitchen. Church and Tucker are in the hall debating over some thief semantics Wash can’t comprehend. What Wash notices, though, is that her eyes are a little red. 

“You okay?” 

“Fine.” 

“The mercs didn’t bully you, did they?” 

“No,” Carolina says. “No. Now come on, they’ll be here soon. It’s time to plan a heist.” 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” 

“Positive. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Wash stands up. “But I don’t think we can fit the entire heist team in the kitchen…” 

“Yeah. Let’s do this on my floor. I can set up a planning room up there or something.” 

Wash can tell she’s not talking about something, but he lets it go for now. 

“Okay, boss. Tell us what you’re thinking.” 


	14. Dark, Darker yet Darker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church, Wash, and Carolina have a brush with death. Did I say death? I meant dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a biiiit of a break because I was editing this chapter until it felt right. 
> 
> No kiddin'. 
> 
> Warnings for...the director's....everything. (If any of you have specific phrasing ideas for how to tag that if you think it's necessary, it'd be appreciated.)

Carolina takes Wash out each night. Tex prefers to run her cons alone anyway, so they work together, making baby steps in crime. Petty theft, breaking into stores, etcetera. 

The good thing about having Carolina around now is that he understands that in their own way, they click. 

They both joined the force so long ago for the reward of it.The justice of it. The naivete that anyone becomes a cop with. 

And now they’re both learning how to break the law. 

Sure, Carolina’s broken a few laws, but up until now, they were mostly on technicality. Spending the days stealing hardly appeals to her. 

It doesn’t really appeal to Wash, either. So they take it one day at a time as the heist starts to come together. 

“Okay,” Carolina says, handing Wash a piece of paper. “More resource gathering.” 

They’ve taken up something new, then- they steal information and important items for Carolina’s big heist and nothing else. Church only tolerates it because, well, it’s Carolina’s idea. 

“What do we need?” Wash asks, taking the paper from her. Carolina sits down at their kitchen table. 

“The reds made us a requisition list for their preferred weapons, armor, everything. It’s our heist, so our job to get it to them.”

“This is a lot of stuff,” Wash replies uncertainly. “Do you think we can do it?” 

“Of course we can,” Carolina says. “We need as many shotgun shells as we can manage, these car parts, and...I’m going to have to ask them if they’re sure we need C4.”

“I can answer that for you right now,” Wash says dryly. “We in no way need any C4.”

“They won’t like that.”

“They’ll have to deal with it,” Wash shoots back. “The rest of this we can manage. Are we ready to go?” 

“Ready when you are.” 

“Let’s go.” 

“I see you haven’t forgotten how to show a girl a good time, Wash.” 

Wash flushes, a little embarrassed. “Seriously?” 

“Friends can tease friends. Come on.”

\--

Wash and Carolina plan on hitting some stores. Carolina parks at the first one and hands Wash a pistol. 

“You know how this works. Caboose has already hit their cams and security systems. All we need to do is get in and out.” 

Carolina and Wash get out of the car. 

The plan goes wrong about when they’re at the back door, and Carolina feels a knife at her throat. 

“Son of a bitch.” 

“Got you,” Felix the mercenary hisses with delight. The cock of a gun notifies her Wash is in similar straits. “Think you can outsmart me, do you?” 

Carolina manages a small shrug. “Well we did once.” 

“Shut up! Locus-” 

Felix spins Carolina so she faces Wash, who has his hands up, and Locus, who has a gun to the back of her friend’s head. 

“What.”

“This’s her, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Now here’s how this works, bitch.”

“You’re really gonna regret calling me bitch,” Carolina growls. Felix presses the knife in hard enough for a few drops of blood to roll down Carolina’s neck. 

“Don’t interrupt. Our orders are that you put your hands in front of you, nice and easy. My partner here shoots your boy in the head, we take you and that body to the bosses, and we get our bonus. Deal?” 

“Actually, I disagree on a few fine points,” Carolina says conversationally, before stamping down hard on Felix’s foot, forcing him to drop the knife. 

She grabs his arm, and as Wash and Locus notice the situation, Wash ducks. Locus tries to turn the gun on her, but Carolina lifts Felix by one arm and throws him into Locus, who staggers back with the weight. 

“Wash!” 

“Coming!” 

Wash stumbles to his feet and scrambles after her as Felix yells at Locus, who silently gets the duo back on track. 

This time, when Wash and Carolina leap into their car, they’re in for a chase through the winding highways of the city of Blood Gulch. 

“We have to lose them first,” Wash says, and Carolina nods, flooring the accelerator. 

The car’s back window shatters under a hail of gunfire from an automatic weapon. Wash ducks. 

“Fuck!” 

“Seems they gave up on taking me alive,” Carolina says dryly. Wash gives her a look. 

“Do we have anything in here?” 

“Well, no, not really, seeing as we were supposed to be stealing some of it tonight!” 

Wash looks back as another spray of gunfire hits the car. “Jesus! This isn’t an action movie, boss, we need to get out of the way.” 

“On it.” Carolina takes a hard right through a red light into downtown. 

While where the thieves live is an abandoned district and one of the most poverty-ridden, downtown Blood Gulch trods the line most cities walk between filled with humanity’s refuse and filled with fortune. Carolina accelerates down a street, blowing old newspapers out of the way. She has to swerve to avoid hitting some homeless pedestrians, and prays Felix and Locus don’t hit anyone. 

“Downtown?” Wash asks, looking in the glove box. “Really? What about the traffic?” 

“Wash, it’s two in the morning.” 

“Yeah, that’s when club traffic hits.” 

“How do you know this much about the fucking traffic?” 

“I worked graveyard meter shift starting out at the PD,” Wash mutters, finding extra ammo for his pistol. “Don’t tell anyone who’s still alive, okay?” 

“I won’t, assuming we live. Did we lose them?” 

Wash looks back. “I think we-"

Carolina slams on the breaks as the mercs’ car pulls out in front of her. “Shit!” 

“Didn’t,” Wash yelps, sliding forward in the car seat so hard he gets a bit of whiplash. “Ow, dammit. We didn’t!” 

“Yeah, I NOTICED!” 

Carolina shifts the car into reverse, peeling backwards at a speed Wash didn’t entirely think was possible. 

“Hang on, and don’t get your neck snapped!” 

“Don’t get my what?” Wash shouts. 

“Don’t be a baby!” 

“You make that sound easy when we’re being chased by mercenaries your damn dad sent after us!” 

“Shut up for five minutes and let me drive, Wash!” 

Carolina slams backwards into a lightpost, and they both stumble out of the car. 

“Carrie!” 

“Leo?” 

Church dashes up and grabs his sister by the arm. “I was running tricks down the street and I heard the gunshots. What’s going on?”

“Mercenaries,” Carolina manages, head spinning as Felix and Locus park their car and get out. Church puts her arm around his shoulders. “Come on, sis, I gotta-” 

“No,” Carolina snaps. “Take Wash. They’ll kill him.” 

Church furrows his brow and lets her go, confidently marching up to the duo. 

“I know who the hell hired you. And we had a deal. These two are under my protection. He and I need to talk.”

“Oh, and who the hell do you think you are, you scrawny little street rat,” Felix snaps. Church growls. 

“You have no idea who the hell you’re fucking with you goddamn weasel, but take me to Director Church or I’ll show you myself.” 

Locus’ phone rings, and they both pause, looking as the taller merc answers.

“This is Locus.” 

There’s a tense pause until he speaks again. “Understood, sir.” 

He hangs up. 

“Felix. Change of orders. Sedate all three of them and take them to the Church estate.” 

“What?” 

“Change. Of. Orders. Just do it.” 

“You got lucky this time, brat,” Felix mutters, unholstering a tranquilizer pistol strapped to his hip. “Next time I’ll kill you myself.” 

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.” 

Felix takes far too much pleasure in shooting Church in the arm, before he puts one dart in Carolina’s stomach and Wash’s leg. 

“More trouble than they’re worth,” Felix mutters as all three slowly crumple to the ground. “All these stupid targets, Locs.”

“Mm.” 

-

Carolina regains consciousness tied to a dining room chair in what used to be her own home. 

All the lights are off, and the place looks a wreck- like a tornado blew through, and nothing else was strapped down. 

But they’re in her father’s office, and across from them is the computer. With that precious hard drive. 

Carolina elbows her little brother awake. “Church.”

“Whassat?"

“Can you get out of and back into these ropes quickly.” 

“Probably. Why?” 

Carolina jerks her head towards the computer, and Church’s eyes widen in understanding. 

“Change of plans, then. Got it.” 

Church wiggles out of the ropes and to the floor, and goes straight to the computer. 

“You know, I had hoped we’d have that idiot Caboose around to do this, but-”

“Shh!” Carolina hisses. 

“Alright, alright.” 

Church borrows a USB drive from an old coffee mug by the computer that ironically says #1 Dad. The entire computer backs up slowly, and Church gets on his hands and knees under the desk to pop off the light material covering the PC itself. 

“How’s it looking, C?” 

“Seventy-five percent.” 

Carolina pricks up her ears. “He’s moving around in the kitchen. Hurry up, Leo.” 

“Almost got it,” Church gasps, before popping out the hard drive and shoving it into his jacket. 

“USB?”

“Ninety-five!” 

The footsteps start heading towards them, and Church and Carolina watch the numbers slowly tick up. On a hundred, the footsteps are almost outside, and Church grabs the flash drive, shoves it in with the other data, and shuts the computer all the way down before returning to his seat, looking as if he had never left. Carolina gives him a thumbs-up from her position.

In walks a man Carolina hoped never to look in the eyes again- Dr. Leonard Church senior.

He looks almost apologetic as he looks at her, which Carolina meets with a glare, before he looks at Church with absolute fury. Carolina feels guilt in the pit of her stomach. How could she have let him convince her before that her brother deserved this?

“I told you never to come back.”

“That changed when you started screwing with my own,” Church growls, all defiance and fire. Carolina thinks she sees what Tucker meant when he said Church hates their father. “Carrie and Wash were living with me. You sent the dogs after them.” 

“I sent the ‘dogs’ after leaks of information about my work.”

“Yeah, your fucking work in corrupting every inch of this stupid, piece of shit city.”

“We made a deal that I would protect your...moronic band of merry men, and enable your depravity so long as you stayed within the city limits. Protecting a traitor was never in your contract.” 

Church laughs. “Wash? God, if me picking him up is what pissed you off, then good. It’s what you deserve, you fucking! Bastard!” 

Church punctuates the last two words by jerking forwards in his chair aggressively. Carolina winces. 

Wash, now conscious from the shouting, gives her a tired look. She drops her shoulders. 

“You could never learn an ounce of respect,” the Director replies, voice dripping with loathing and contempt. “Not for me, not for your sister, not for anyone but yourself. Your mother would hate you just as much as I do.” 

“As if you give a single fuck of a shit what mom would think,” Church snarls back, even though the words clearly sting.  “Let Carolina and Wash go.” 

“You are in no position to ask for anything,” the Director replies. “I said I would not hurt your friends. I have kept my word. I said nothing about this...defector.” 

He leans in, closer to Church. “And you do not deserve, in the absolute slightest, to speak your sister’s name as if you care about her. You never did. You can’t care about anyone except yourself. You never listened to me, so all you will ever be is a selfish brat who should never have been born. If I had the strength left in me to lift your pitiful body, I would throw you out the second story window.” 

“Too bad you don’t.” 

The director pushes Church towards the front door, and shoves him outside. “Next time you come back to this house, you won’t leave again.” 

“Fuck you, old man,” Church says, and the director slams the door, breathing heavily with anger. 

“Now Caroline,” he says, and his voice is so overly, intentionally sweet and southern that it makes Wash’s nose wrinkle and Carolina’s stomach turn. “So good of you to come home to visit your father in the final days of his work.” 

“What?” 

“I’m retiring, princess. Price will take over my work in the government and make sure we are provided for-” 

“Wait. Dad-- who’s this we?” 

“You and I.” The Director gives Carolina a small smile. “And your friend, if you’d really like. I think he would make a better brother than that...brat. Ain’t that right?” 

Carolina swallows, and prays Church has some kind of plan. Because she can’t tolerate this weird bull-shit much longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave comments as well as kudos and contact me on my other social media platforms (below)!
> 
> Tumblr: maggie-wittington   
> Twitter: extraplutonium


End file.
